


Children of the Sun

by Amuly



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Comeplay, Drug Use, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Inebriated Sex, M/M, Top Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Uncircumcised Penis, high joe, slutty nicky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:07:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29450538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amuly/pseuds/Amuly
Summary: Joe and Nicky have their original Valentine's Day plans delayed thanks to a mission. But eventually they manage to find some time for themselves and celebrate it with champagne, and hash, and good food, and lots, and lots of sex.(Because in my last fic I had Nicky drink while Joe smoked pot, because drinking is haram, and someone commented that they'd like some smut with that dynamic, so: I give you this!)
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 22
Kudos: 206





	Children of the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> FYI, warning for drunk/high sex. Nicky is drunk and Joe is high. It is all VERY consensual, they are drinking and smoking after eating a romantic dinner and they are both very much planning on boning down together, but if inebriated sex bothers you, that's basically this whole fic, so!

Best laid plans of mice and men. The saying went something like that, if Nicky recalled. And they were certainly proof positive that neither mice nor men could ever plan a thing that couldn’t be ruined by the whims of the universe. Or a time-sensitive mission that meant Joe and Nicky were called back from their Parisian holiday on February thirteenth, of all days, and ended up spending Valentine’s Day (and the next three months) separated from each other on reconnaissance, tired and soaked to the skin and freezing in the middle of Russia, somewhere.

But then, _then_ , the mission was over, and Joe and Nicky were together again _(“You guys literally saw each other every other day,” Nile had commented as Joe and Nicky sighed and held each other and kissed a bit once the mission was a success. Nicky just shook his head, because the child did not understand, and Joe started to launch into a soliloquy about how even a day separated from Nicky was a day too much, when Andy just rolled her eyes and grabbed Nile. “Trust me: don’t get them started. See you boys in a few weeks,” and led Nile away_ ). They could try to rebook at the same hotel in Paris, but now the rates were higher and it wasn’t Valentine’s Day anymore, and quite frankly Nicky wanted to go somewhere a _little_ warmer after spending all that time lying down in the snow, and Joe could hardly disagree with him. Not for the first time Nicky thought it was yet another sign that they were made for each other, the fact that they were from a similar climate. He couldn’t imagine loving a man who felt more at home in the snow and ice and darkness than sunshine and sea-salt air and _warmth_.

Genoa wasn’t exactly _sweltering_ this time of year, but it was springtime and warm enough to be in jeans and t-shirts, sea air cooling the night just enough that it gave them an excuse to have a small firepit going on their balcony and sit too-close to each other as they ate their much-delayed Valentine’s Day dinner. And it wasn’t Paris, but it was something like home, so that was just as good.

“Their food is terrible anyway,” Nicky gloated, even as he swallowed another mouthful of French champagne. Joe giggled at him as he smoked his pipe, stuffed with the finest hash (that he bought off some kids hanging around the piazza a block from their apartment). Their bellies were full and plates stacked in the sink, for Joe to deal with tomorrow morning before Nicky woke up.

“I know, love,” Joe reassured him. “Genoa has _much_ better pork than France could ever have, and your pasta…” he kissed his fingers dramatically. Nicky huffed happily to himself as he reached for the bottle of champagne and waited for the other shoe to drop as he poured himself more.

And of course, it did, when Joe continued: “It’s nothing to compare to my lamb, but-”

“You over-spice everything,” Nicky chided him. An old argument—one of their oldest. After, of course, they had put aside the sort of arguments that ended in stabbing. 

“I’ve always been too hot for you.” Joe waggled his eyebrows as he puffed at his pipe.

Ah, well. Nicky couldn’t _not_ kiss him, at that. Bringing his glass with him, Nicky rose from his own chair and draped himself over Joe’s lap, kissing him soundly. Joe held his pipe away from them with one hand and pressed the other to Nicky’s lower back, holding him in place as they kissed deeply. Joe’s breath tasted like hash, and Nicky supposed his probably tasted like champagne, and they _both_ tasted of onions and garlic. But it was perfect, because it was Joe, and Nicky would never stop kissing this man if he could help it.

Nicky was half-hard when they parted, but it wasn’t urgent, yet. He leaned back and took another gulp of his champagne—the only way to get a buzz from it, with their constitutions, was to consume a lot, and quickly. He finished his glass as Joe smoked his pipe, looking up at Nicky with eager anticipation.

“What are you thinking, _bello_?” Nicky asked, even as he leaned backwards for the champagne bottle. Abandoning pretense, he took a swig straight from the bottle as his hips ground down lightly against Joe’s lap. Joe gazed up at him with stars in his eyes—and something more fiery, as well.

“I am thinking of all the ways to make love to you,” Joe admitted freely. His eyes darted across Nicky’s face, soaking him in. “All the ways I know to make your body sing. And trying to decide how our bodies will come together tonight.”

Nicky leaned down and kissed him, their tongues stroking lazily over each other, though growing more heated by the second.

“I want you to take me,” Nicky told him, grinding down some more. He took another gulp of the champagne, knowing that it was its influence that was making him feel this way: open, wanton. Wishing to be filled by his lover, to be made wet and dripping with his seed, messy and wrung-out. Nicky swallowed and saw Joe’s eyes flick down to his Adam’s apple. “I want you to take my throat, and then my body. I am yours.”

“I am _yours_ ,” Joe croaked, staring up adoringly at him. Nicky pressed his face into Joe’s neck, biting at his jaw, nuzzling at his ear.

“Finish your hash,” Nicky told him.

“It is done,” Joe said immediately, which just made Nicky laugh. He pulled back and shook his head.

“I am not done with my champagne. Finish your hash.”

Joe smoked like he had been ordered too—which he had, somewhat. His eyes were fixed on Nicky, though, as he drank again from the champagne bottle. Feeling drunk, and wanton, and beautiful in the arms of his lover, Nicky slipped the neck of the champagne bottle further into his mouth than strictly necessary. After he swallowed another long draught, Nicky pulled back slowly, dragging his tongue on the underside of the bottle. A low groan spilled from Joe’s throat.

“Nicky, please… Let me…”

“Just a little more,” Nicky promised him. Taking pity on him, Nicky leaned down and kissed Joe again. Their kisses were growing less lazy, more desperate. Joe’s hips pressed up against Nicky as his hand pushed at his back, encouraging Nicky to swivel his hips in circles on his lap. Joe panted as they pulled apart, mouth shiny with spit and hanging agape as he stared up at Nicky. Without breaking eye contact, Nicky brought the champagne bottle to his mouth and took another long, long pull. Joe’s mouth just fell open further.

“Smoke,” Nicky reminded him. Joe shook his head and tossed his pipe onto the table. He blinked dramatically, eyes visibly red.

“Nicky, if I smoke any more I’m just as liable to fall asleep as to fuck you.”

Nicky quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, so now it is ‘fuck’ me? Not five minutes ago we were making love.” But he did reach back and set the bottle of champagne on the table.

Joe’s eyes narrowed. That was all the warning Nicky got before Joe wrapped both arms around his waist and stood, heaving Nicky along with him. Instinctually Nicky’s legs wrapped themselves around Joe’s hip, and Joe adjusted his grip until he was holding Nicky up with both hands on his ass. Nicky squirmed against him, basking in the attention.

“First I will fuck you,” Joe explained. “Then, if you are very good, I will make love to you.”

“And if I am not good?” Nicky asked, heart pounding in his chest. Joe grinned, showing too many teeth. Nicky’s erection throbbed between their bodies.

“Then I will have to keep fucking you until you are. And _then_ I will make love to you.”

“That could take a long time,” Nicky breathed.

“I will take an eternity, if need be,” Joe promised. And of course, what could Nicky do with that _but_ kiss him? So kiss him he did: leaning down and cupping Joe’s face in both hands, tongues sliding together and kissing and kissing even as Joe continued to walk them, blindly, to their bed.

Joe didn’t toss Nicky onto the bed, though Nicky kind of _felt_ like being tossed. Instead he squatted carefully, lowering Nicky onto the bed without a moment wasted not kissing him. He covered Nicky’s body with his own, and that was _almost_ as good as being tossed around, for now. Nicky kept his legs wrapped around Joe’s waist and gasped when Joe used his leverage to thrust his groin into Nicky’s.

“Joe,” Nicky moaned, rolling his hips back, pleasure spiking with every thrust. His erection strained against his jeans, friction just this side of uncomfortable, wetness smearing against his underthings.

Joe leaned back, just from the waist up, so he could gaze down at Nicky’s face as he thrust against him some more. Nicky moaned and his eyelids fluttered as Joe peered down at him, expression awed, almost rapturous.

“You’re so beautiful,” Joe breathed. He reached one hand up to caress Nicky’s cheek. Nicky turned to kiss it, then opened his mouth. He looked up at Joe, waiting. Joe’s breath hitched as he slid his thumb into Nicky’s mouth and Nicky sucked on it, gladly, eagerly. Nicky’s mouth watered as he imagined something much bigger filling his mouth, pressing against the back of his throat, making him choke. Nicky’s fingers scrambled at the hem of Joe’s shirt, pushing it up so he could reach for his belt, his button, his zipper.

Joe glanced down between them as Nicky slipped his hand into Joe’s jeans, groaning as Nicky found his waiting erection. It was warm in Nicky’s hand, foreskin sliding smoothly back as Nicky stroked it awkwardly, still tucked away. He looked up at Joe and bit gently at his thumb, causing Joe to meet his eyes, slip his thumb from Nicky’s mouth.

“Please?” Nicky begged.

Joe scrambled to shove his jeans down. Nicky helped him with his shirt, Joe stumbling over the side of the bed in his haste. Joe went down giggling, still high from the hash, probably. He covered his face with both hands as he laughed. Nicky grinned as he climbed on top of him, tugging his own shirt off with one hand by the back of the collar and tossing it aside before settling between Joe’s legs, licking his lips.

“Ah, bello,” Nicky murmured, almost to himself, as he gazed down at Joe’s beautiful nude body. He ran his hands through the thick, black hair that covered Joe’s thighs and stomach. His erection twitched as Nicky teasingly brushed past it, and Joe whimpered.

“Nicky…”

Nicky shushed him, already bending down. “Joe, my love, please,” Nicky chided. Because of _course_ Nicky was going to take care of him, going to touch him, to taste him.

Mouth watering, Nicky licked several stripes up Joe’s erection, getting it slick. His Joe love it when he made him sloppy and wet, and Nicky couldn’t deny him. He bent his head to suck at his balls as well, just enough to wet them, so his hand could massage them and make Joe moan. He was rewarded with such a moan as he returned his attention to Joe’s manhood. Nicky sighed with primal contentment as he swallowed it down, one hand tight around the base. He relished the feeling of the foreskin against his lips, pushing it back the first few times he bobbed his head, before Joe’s erection filled out to full hardness. Joe groaned at the sensation, bucking up into his mouth. Nicky happily took him all, humming as he did.

“Ah, Nicky-!” Joe hissed, one hand going down to tangle in Nicky’s hair. Nicky’s eyelashes fluttered.

It was just so good. There was nothing Nicky wanted right now more than being stuffed full of his Joe. He wished there was a way to be filled everywhere by him—from behind, from in front. But not by some toy, and not by some other. Just Joe, around him, inside him, everywhere. Ah, but if he could not be, this was almost as good. Nicky choked himself on Joe’s erection, swallowing it down further, pressing his nose into Joe’s public hair, shaking his head lightly side to side as he tried to get further, to take more. Joe groaned helplessly above him, legs splayed open as Nicky worked him so expertly.

When Nicky pulled back for a breath Joe stroked at his face, fingers clumsy from the hash, eyes blinking blurrily down at him. “Nicky, Nicky…” Nicky panted, stroking at Joe’s slick erection as he stared up at Joe’s adoring face.

“Should I finish you?” Nicky asked. “Or can you take me?”

“I can take you,” Joe promised, reaching down at Nicky. He nodded over and over again as Nicky crawled his way up his body, abandoning Joe’s erection for the moment. “I can take you, I can…” Joe promised, dragging Nicky in for a kiss, mumbling the words into his mouth. Nicky licked sloppily at his mouth, too much tongue, too much spit. But it made Joe laugh, and Nicky felt wanton, eager: a _mess_. And wanted Joe to _make_ him a mess.

“Okay, okay,” Joe said, fumbling to the side. “Where… where did we…”

“On the table,” Nicky told him, yanking his jeans off and turning over onto knees and elbows.

“Oh, right.” Joe giggled as Nicky heard him slap at the table. “It was right- Oh.”

Nicky glanced over his shoulder at Joe’s disappointed “Oh.” “What?”

Joe was pouting at him. “I wanted to kiss you.”

Nicky glared at him. “You can kiss me.”

Whining, Joe crawled back to him, kissing and kissing him. “But I wanted,” _kiss_ , “to kiss you,” _kiss_ , “while we were,” _kiss_ , “making love?” _Kiss, kiss, kiss._

“If we start facing each other, do you promise to turn me over?” Nicky negotiated. Normally he wouldn’t be so clinical, more likely to go with however Joe and he found themselves in the moment, but he was drunk and feeling deliciously sensual, and particular about how he wanted to _feel_ that sensuality.

“I promise, I promise,” Joe whispered the words into his mouth, sighing happily as Nicky let himself be turned onto his back, Joe settling between his thighs.

“I ache for you,” Nicky complained, tilting his hips up, lifting his thighs to Joe’s chest. Joe placed a sympathetic kiss to his thigh as he warmed the slick on his fingers.

“I will replace one ache with another,” Joe promised him as he slipped one, then two fingers inside. Nicky’s mouth fell open as he pushed down against Joe’s fingers, body full but not nearly full enough, nerves lighting up from the inside out.

Soon—too long and just soon enough—Joe replaced his fingers with himself, pushing inside Nicky with a desperate groan. His hands slipped over Nicky’s calves as he held his legs up. Nicky reached down to help, gripping his own thighs and spreading them wide, holding himself open so his Joe could push deep inside of him, fill him until he was satisfied ( _never; he could never have his fill of his Joe_ ). Groaning sweetly, Joe leaned down and Nicky stretched up, giving Joe those kisses he so wanted and needed.

“I love you,” Joe said into his mouth. He moved to the side, pressing sloppy kisses up Nicky’s jaw, his cheek. One kiss slipped and landed on his eye, the next on his eyebrow. Nicky growled in frustration as Joe kept kissing him everywhere but his _mouth_ , and of course Joe dissolved into a fit of giggles, pressing his face into Nicky’s neck. But his hips were anything but a joke, pressing hard into Nicky, their bodies joining over and over again, Nicky’s thighs burning with their union. Nicky moaned and tried to spread his legs wider, tendons in his groin aching deliciously as he did.

Flutter-light kisses all over his neck, and Nicky craned it, offering up more skin. “Joe,” he whined, _wanting_.

“You’re so vicious when you’re drunk,” Joe giggled. But he gave Nicky what he wanted: biting down on his neck, soothing the spot a moment later with his tongue. He shifted further up and repeated the action, making Nicky moan and squirm beneath him, hips stuttering, wanting more, faster. Nicky dropped one hand from his thigh to grab at Joe’s back, encourage him. Joe bit him again, sucked at the spot this time. Nicky squeezed his eyes shut as his erection leaked between them, pleasure spiking through him.

“ _Hah_ , Joe-” Nicky moaned.

“I have you,” Joe promised him. He lifted his head to give Nicky a proper kiss on the lips and Nicky licked back at him, jabbing his tongue into Joe’s mouth, making an absolute mess of the two of them. There was spit in Joe’s beard, whiskers glittering with it. Nicky’s erection twitched at the sight, and it just made him grip the back of Joe’s neck harder, drag him in for sloppier kisses, until they were just licking each other’s tongues with little art or finesse.

“Then _take_ me,” Nicky begged.

“I _am_ taking you,” Joe giggled, chasing his mouth. Petulantly Nicky turned to the side, but Joe just dropped kisses all over his cheek, his jaw, his ear. Nicky reached down to grab at Joe’s ass, squeezing tight. Joe moaned, eyes squeezing shut.

“ _Take_ me.”

With a growl Joe pulled out and shoved at Nicky, who was already turning over, already dropping down to his knees and elbows, presenting himself for the taking. Joe slipped back inside him with ease and Nicky _moaned_. _This_ is what he wanted. This is what he needed. Joe, his Joe, filling him, _taking_ him. Nicky’s head dropped as Joe set a punishing pace behind him.

“Is this what you needed, my love?” Joe asked. His hips worked Nicky brutally, but his hands belied the raw intensity: stroking up and down Nicky’s spine, caressing him gently. Nicky’s fists gripped at the sheets, torn between passionate pleasure and tender love. Of course, it was always both, with Joe: he always gave Nicky both.

“Yes, _sì, mio tesoro_ -” Nicky moaned, nearly babbling. Pleasure began to build inside of him, threatened to start to crest. He kept his hands on the bedsheets, determined to spill himself not from his own hand, or even Joe’s, but from the simple pleasure of his lovemaking alone. Nicky knew he could, and would, if Joe could just stave off his own release for long enough.

He felt Joe lean back, and then Joe gripped at Nicky’s hips, hauling them higher. Nicky hiccuped at the new angle, erection leaking seed onto the bed. Joe was pounding into him now, room filled with the sound of their lovemaking: skin slapping against skin, Joe’s rough pants and grunts. And, embarrassingly (but never, because Joe knew him, because Joe loved it), the sound of Nicky’s moans, reedy and desperate. Joe’s fingers dug into his hips.

“Just there, isn’t it, my darling?” Joe asked—as if he needed to. Nicky couldn’t help himself, like this: couldn’t censor the noises spilling from his throat, the way his body was both limp like a ragdoll for Joe’s taking and tensing further and further as his pleasure threatened to crest. Nicky’s face was pressed against the sheets, mouth open and drooling. He could feel the slick dripping from his entrance, down over the back of his balls. Oh, but it felt so good. But _Joe_ felt so good, and could make _him_ feel so good. Nicky’s eyes squeezed shut as he felt his pleasure overwhelm him.

“Joe,” he croaked, but Joe was already there, Joe was adjusting his grip so he could reach around, stroke Nicky through the release that shot out of him, that crashed from him like wave, like an avalanche, like a force of nature that there was no stopping. Nicky’s body jerked, hips juddering as he spilled all over Joe’s hand and onto the bed below.

“Use me,” Nicky moaned as he went limp beneath Joe. “Don’t stop-”

“I don’t really have a say,” Joe panted as his thrusts grew more erratic. “I can’t- I can’t keep-” Joe groaned and _pressed_ inside Nicky, spilling his release deep inside Nicky’s body. Nicky moaned and twitched futilely, over-stimulated nerves singing one last time at the feel of Joe’s muscles, of Joe’s manhood, of Joe, _Joe, Joe_.

They collapsed against the mattress together, Joe still inside of Nicky, though now he pressed his torso against Nicky’s back, stretched his legs against Nicky’s legs. Beneath him Nicky groaned contentedly, stretching out and shimmying sensually as he enjoyed the feel of those miles of skin against his own, Joe’s warmth and weight on top of him, pinning him down. Joe reached up and dragged his hands down Nicky’s arms, tangled their fingers together when he got to Nicky’s hands. He pressed kisses to the back of Nicky’s neck and Nicky squirmed some more, pleased and satiated and more than a little drunk, he realized now, in his post-orgasmic haze.

After a minute Joe started to pull out and Nicky squeezed at his hands, tugged at him, holding him in place. “Just a minute more,” Nicky insisted, flexing around Joe still softening inside of him. “I like being full of you.”

“You’re full of _something_ ,” Joe mumbled into his neck. Then he started giggling, and couldn’t stop. Nicky tried to elbow at him, but he also wanted to keep Joe on top of him, so it was a half-hearted struggle. Joe kept giggling and Nicky tried to swat at him.

“Yes, _you_!” Nicky pointed out. “I’m full of _you_!”

“Not anymore,” Joe tried to point out, but Nicky was hooking his ankles over Joe’s calves, doing his best to keep him pinned on top of his back. It wasn’t exactly an _ideal_ positioning for grappling, however, and Joe slipped away easily, rolling off to the side in a fit of giggles. Nicky shoved at him and pouted, even as he rolled over with Joe and pressed himself against his side.

“I _could_ have been, if you hadn’t pulled out,” Nicky grumbled.

“You are such a demanding drunk,” Joe giggled. He pressed his face to Nicky’s shoulder, dropping kisses in between laughter to all the bare skin he could reach. Nicky shoved at him again, but of course that didn’t stop Joe in the slightest. He rolled further onto his side, wrapping himself around Nicky, wrapped around each other like some impossible mathematical figure, where there was no end and no beginning. One of Joe’s hands drifted down, gentle past Nicky’s softening erection, back lower. Nicky squirmed and sighed as Joe pressed his fingers against Nicky’s tender entrance (already healed, if there had been any damage or residual soreness at all, but it still _felt_ tender, if only with pleasure). Joe’s seed was leaking from him, because he was too lazy and drunk to get up and find tissues or a towel, and Joe was too high for it to occur to him to offer. Well: sleeping in a wet spot was hardly the worst they’d endured, in their days. And they were on top of the comforter. So it didn’t really matter.

“I love you so much,” Joe mumbled, fingering lightly at Nicky’s hole.

“You _are_ very good in bed,” Nicky returned, feeling a little pleasantly vicious. Joe whined, mock-affronted, and butted his head against Nicky’s shoulder a couple of times.

“Don’t be cruel to me, my love. My heart can’t take it!”

“You are a gentle soul,” Nicky agreed. Lasciviously, Joe humped against Nicky’s thigh.

“Not _that_ gentle,” Joe reminded him.

“Mmmm, I am forever thankful for that,” Nicky agreed. Joe giggled again against his side, and Nicky felt himself passing out in slow motion.

He was dozing when Joe shifted, pulling his fingers out of Nicky and wiping them on the comforter, getting up to go the bathroom. Nicky moved just to get beneath the comforter himself, flopping down onto his side and already dozing again before Joe was out of the bathroom. A few minutes later a light _thunk_ next to Nicky’s head woke him: Joe had placed a glass of water on the table next to him. Joe pressed a kiss to his hair as he climbed into bed next to him. Nicky closed his eyes, waiting for Joe to wrap around him. When he didn’t, Nicky frowned, even as he was nearly asleep again.

“Joe?”

Joe’s voice came muffled: “Just a minute.”

Nicky snorted and burrowed down further beneath the blankets. “You shouldn’t eat in the bed,” he chided.

“Need to keep my energy up,” Joe commented from around a mouthful of whatever midnight munchies he’d scrounged up for himself.

Before Nicky could come up with a witty retort to that he was asleep again, just enough alcohol still in his system to drag him under. He stirred only once more: when Joe pressed up behind him some time later, wrapping himself around Nicky’s back. Nicky sighed and leaned back into him, rubbing himself gently and without intent against Joe’s body, feeling Joe’s soft penis pressed against his backside. In the morning, he might want to do something with that. But now he was tired, and a little hungover (it would pass quickly enough), and in love, and terribly, wonderfully satiated. Nicky sighed and was asleep again in the matter of a moment.


End file.
